Never Too Far Away
by Thriasia
Summary: Having always seen life as a perpetual entertainment, Char, Prince of Kyrria, encounters resistance in the form of one Ella of Frell. She is bitter, argumentative, and wants nothing to do with him; yet he cannot seems to forget her. AU. Char/Ella. OOC.
1. Dry Out of Luck

**Never Too Far Away**

**By Thriasia**

**Disclaimer:** None of these characters have been created by my non-clever mind and all credit belongs to Ms. Levine.

o~o~o~o~o

**Dry Out of Luck**

_Karma has a blasted way of biting you when you least expect it_, pondered Ella, with really nothing else to do, considering her less than fortunate circumstances. One minute she's having a gay ol' time taking a scenic route on her—supposedly harmless— visit to her Aunt Rainford's, playing the naïve and unsuspecting fool on karma's good side. Then it turns on her so swiftly she suffers the agonizing whip-flash. And for what?

In favor of throwing her carriage in a dilapidated heap on the stiff, pebbly ground, that's what.

If karma had a tangible form, it would probably be disguised as one of those delicious, ruby apples. How appealing it would be until she collapsed and died from poisonous consumption. Although, at this point, even that seemed to be a more attractive idea.

Anything was probably better than being trapped under one's fallen form of transportation.

Hitting a rut in the road, her carriage had flipped over early this morning, efficiently eliminating any path for her escape. Of course, the team of chestnut horses had run off, the footmen had scattered in all directions for aid, and she received the lovely occupation of portraying the damsel in distress under a massive piece of wood and wheels.

That was _hours_ ago.

Not fond of idling around, Ella of Frell had no intention of seeking a savior. But, in vain, she attempted to pry herself free. Being in the unfamiliar town of Bast, she must have appeared a pathetic sight wriggling and squirming under a capsized carriage.

Presently, seeing how she was a complete failure in all aspects requiring an iota of strength, Ella resigned herself to tracing back to all the unwholesome things she'd done in her eighteen years to deserve such a dull, hair-ripping fate. She was trying to repent for them.

_Let's see… _Ella thought as she clasped her eyes shut in what she believed was contrition. She had squandered the 10 KJs she had received for her birthday when she was enticed by an adorable monkey, which she was promptly forced to return after the poor thing bit her mother.

Sorry, Gods.

She had accidentally—or not so accidentally—pushed her childhood nemesis, Marta, into a platter of cake at the Hennesy's ball. _But, Marta had deserved it_….

Ella mentally slapped herself. That was no way to go about an apology.

_So sorry_, Gods.

Also, it was pretty heartless to abandon the first boy who fancied her in favor of a free muffin. _Terribly sorry_, Ella apologized to the higher beings fervently.

And, then she dared to open one eye.

Nothing had changed.

Ella exploded in a cry of exasperation, vehemently whipping her long brown hair from side to side.

But, in mid-cry, her eye caught on a tweeting swallow perched in a willow across from her. She hadn't seen any indication of life all morning. She figured the animals had not wanted to be around her gloomy disposition.

She was mesmerized by the bird.

She was also delirious.

Fatigue encompassing her brain, Ella's mind began to fabricate elaborate ways this little bird could help her.

All she had to do was communicate with her feathered friend and then it could fly away for assistance. She could get through to it, couldn't she? She had always read in fairytales how princesses would have many-a-furry companions. Plus, she had always wanted to be more 'at one' with nature. How difficult could it be?

Ella looked up at the bird with a soulful expression. "Oh, sweet, melodious bird, will you not help me?" Perhaps if she submerged the bird in flattery, it would be more sympathetic to her cause.

The umber swallow quirked its head, as if saying, 'Are you speaking to me?'

"Yes, yes, you," Ella confirmed. "C'mere." The bird opened its wings, preparing to fly. "That's it, good birdie," Ella cooed. She waited with baited breath as the swallow swooped down from its perch and landed on a tree root to the edge of her elbow.

Ella gasped with delight. She did not see how others thought this kinship with nature to be so challenging. Look at her. She was a regular Snow White.

"You _do_ understand me, don't you? You charming swallow!" Ella exclaimed excitedly.

The swallow tipped its head in acknowledgement, she thought.

"You _are_ going for help, aren't you?"

The swallow nodded once again.

Ella's heart soared with exultation. "Go, then, my friend. Take flight!" she beckoned.

As the bird stretched its wings and escalated toward the tree, Ella knew this swallow would be her savior. It was a kindred spirit and was going to retrieve help! Wait was all she had to do.

Still with an elated smile upon her face, minutes later Ella heard the ruffling of wings. Craning her head upwards, Ella saw her bird returning from the opposite direction. _The clever bird found someone so soon, _she thought with wonder.

Above, the swallow circled around; coasting down toward the same point it had left. Settling down, the bird peered at Ella, and Ella examined it horror. Wriggling in the swallow's mouth was a fresh worm.

"No! That's not what I told you to find!" Ella reprimanded exasperatedly.

The bird twisted its head to look at Ella's agonized face. Not breaking eye contact, the bird gulped down the worm, giving a tweet as it finished.

"Help!" Ella erupted. "Did you not hear me? H-e-l-p."

Nodding, the swallow hopped around the tree and began to chirp a song.

Ella slammed her head into the ground. Bloody bird! The damn thing had had no idea what she was saying the whole time! That was the last time she put her faith in a creature with a brain the size of a pea.

As the swallow continued to parade the circumference of the tree, jovially singing, Ella shook her head wearily.

She was officially crazy.

And, still stuck.

Chirping once more, the bird bounced up and down on the tree root, taunting Ella. Cursing the swallow, she glared at it hatefully, watching it do its jumping. Up, down, up, down. Up. _Down. _

This thing was an _idiot_.

She glanced down at the swallow's padding feet on the tree root, and then forcefully banged her head on the dirt a second time.

Wait.

The picture of the tree root had flashed behind Ella's closed eyelids. She jerked her up suddenly.

A tree root!

Why had she not seen it before? Perhaps it was because she had been having a mental epileptic fit for the past few minutes… That fact aside, the root seemed to be grounded just beyond her reach. If she could somehow grab it and pull, she might be able to shimmy her way out from under the carriage. She wasn't lodged in too deep, she estimated. And, honestly, at this point, how could she possibly lose any more of her dignity?

It was a potential escape! And, not a completely insane one, at that. Forget the blasted bird!

Ella made a nasty face at the chirping swallow, smacking it away with the back of her hand, and causing it to ascend into the air with a furious screech.

Ah… Ella predicted she would be expecting another smiting from the Gods for that one. Oh, well. A rock could not change its composition. At least she had given the nature idea a go.

But, more important at the moment was the tree.

With the extension of her arm, Ella tested out the distance between her trapped body and the tree root. She saw that it was not that far, all she needed to do was stretch a bit more. So, taking a deep breath of preparation, Ella lengthened her spine to its maximum height while holding out her hands desperately.

Flailing, she continued missing a steady grip on the root by a few inches. Flailing more earnestly, Ella grinned in triumph as she felt one hand grasp something solid. With a firm grip, she tugged at her body gingerly, which slowly revealed itself out of piles of wood.

_No seemingly bloody or broken appendages, which were always good, _she then wriggled a bit more. Another part of her body appeared. An excellent process, it was. Then came her legs; it was similar to being birthed by the carriage. Right before the finishing of her knees, she heard a thundering of hooves on the ground, and it was swiftly coming up behind her, which was obviously not a convenient area for her to view.

"How nice that the footmen have arrived _just_ in time", Ella muttered sarcastically. Yes… just as she had completed rescuing herself. Now, there was really nothing else they could do. Hearing the horse slowing to a trot behind her, she yelled to the general space beyond her back, "Thank you for coming so slowly! Really, it's been just peachy mulling over the secrets of human life here. Without this opportunity of being imprisoned under a towering pumpkin of a coach, I'm sure I would not have undergone such an overwhelming character metamorphosis. Never mind the pain and agony. Oh, I relished it for my various sins over—"

"Quite a hostile girl, is she not?" interrupted a smooth voice addressing the quiet road-side. Ella heard the man descend from his horse.

_Oh, Lord, _Ella silently said a few expletives to her so-far sadistic Gods_. _The man—who had yet to reveal his face—was definitely not one of her footmen. _Damn. _It was a bit mortifying being stopped in a rant by a stranger.

"Especially for a girl who is in a distressing situation," the man taunted while slowly strolling around the mess of the crash, "and needs assistance from the person they were verbally abusing." He ended his stroll standing right in front, or rather, above a shocked Ella, who was still clutching the tree root.

Considering the man had caught her spastic display of anger and did _not _currently have his legs crushed by a bloody carriage, Ella stared at his immaculate umber boots with hatred. As her gaze travelled upwards, she saw an equally pristine pair of black breeches, perfectly accentuated with a dark brown coat over a casual linen shirt, open at the collar. The finishing touch was the man's disgustingly smug face, framed by willfully auburn locks. How Ella scorned this man already.

"Well?" Ella raised her eyebrows expectantly. "Are you going to do something that might be of any use, or enjoy the scenery some more?" She removed her arms from the root and crossed them defiantly over her dirty blouse.

"I'm rather delighting in the beauty of nature at the moment," returned a provoking reply. The man assumed a relaxed stance and glanced around at the foliage in feigned interest.

Ella scoffed. "Fine, if you refuse to help me, then it would be much appreciated if you would simply stay out of my way."

The tall man chuckled with amusement, finally staring down upon her as if she was not in dire need. He seemed to be taking sincere joy in her disgruntlement.

"It is obliging that you find such humor from my circumstances," Ella stated caustically. She frowned at his footwear, since it pained her neck to glower at his laughing face.

The man responded urbanely, "My lady, I was only waiting for the ideal opportunity to rescue you valiantly." He knelt to Ella's side and began to remove a broken piece of wood from atop her legs.

His comment made Ella's mood evermore foul. "Forget it. Trail along on your dashing way; I have no need of your presumptuous heroics!" The stranger gave her a dubious look, which she was sure reflected his over-inflated ego. Despite Ella's words, he continued to dispel panels of wood that consisted of a once-intact door. However, enraged by the disregard of her command, Ella began to struggle against the stranger's assistance. She thrashed her body violently to rid herself of the man's hands on the fallen wood.

In irritation, the man grasped Ella forearms to still her writhing. "Stop squirming. I am attempting to help," he ordered. "You are being foolish." While holding her arms with one hand, he resumed his work with the other.

Ella gasped at him in disbelief. "_You_ are being foolish in not letting me be!" Ella spat, while still using her movements to resist the anonymous man's aid.

Suddenly, in the midst of their battle, they heard a creaking from above. Due to the commotion, the remnants of the carriage that were perched on Ella began to waver. Her eyes shot above her with a horrified expression. Both she and the stranger immediately held their breaths in the hopes that the giant lumber would not tumble down on them.

Perverse to their wishes, the inevitable occurred, and the remaining pieces of her travelling coach fell mercilessly upon them in a blinding crash of wood and dust.

Sucking up lung-full amounts of dust, Ella hacked and coughed.

It was impossible to see what had happened. But, groping around beneath the muddle of wooden chaos on her form, she angrily realized that she was _still _the only person who was a prisoner to the debris.

As the cloud of brown and red powder cleared the air, the man beheld Ella's murderous countenance.

He became even a tad disconcerted, encountering such a look of menace. Because, now, Ella was covered up to her collarbone in rubble. He had leapt away during the crash, which prevented any injury on his part. He presently stood a few feet away from Ella, viewing the wreckage.

The stranger's discomfort quickly changed to self-satisfied merriment. "I hope you realize this situation could have been resolved if you had just allowed me to help. Now," he ordered as he approached her, "hold still while I rescue you from your maidenly suffering. You may thank me graciously afterward." He smirked arrogantly.

Ella gritted her teeth. She could not believe the audacity of this man, whom she did not even know the name of. "You were the _cause _of this 'situation' and you want me to be _gratified_ that you saved me from it?" she retorted incredulously as she indicated her, again, trapped figure. "I was doing splendidly on my own."

The man coughed a laugh into his arm. The girl looked like a floating head, only seen from her head and up, beyond all the ruin.

An extremely furious levitating head, he mentally corrected.

"Very well. If I mollify you on that point, may I extract you from the wooden carnage?" he smiled, holding up his hands in a mock peace treaty.

"Just get on with it, then," Ella snapped. The man removed his coat, dropping it on the ground, and began swiftly lifting parts of the carriage and depositing them in a pile to the side.

Ella determinedly maintained a silent, mulish expression. Watching his progress, she did have to begrudgingly admit—to herself, of course—that the man was not _un_gifted in looks. His muscles undulated in ways that were not even fair as he hoisted the large masses of her prison, while his brown-red hair fell down in waves over his tan forehead. In addition, his open shirt gave her an eyeful of a smooth, rippling chest. Though, it was not as if she was ogling; the man's torso was practically shoved in her face, for goodness sake's.

With the last of the wood removed from Ella's body, she felt devoid of energy, having been confined for almost four hours. She laid on the dirt road in exhaustion, her arms limp at her sides. Despite her protests, her stranger—because, if he was anyone's stranger, he was undoubtedly "hers" by now—gripped her upper arms and pulled her to a standing position.

After being horizontal so long, Ella felt a little unsteady on her legs, staggering to a nearby tree for support. Her stranger came up beside her, guiding her rest of the way with an arm at her back. "Easy, there. You've had a traumatic experience. Do not try to exert yourself too much." His tone was annoyingly condescending.

Ella threw him an acerbic look. "My body may be stiff, but I am certainly _not_ mentally incapacitated. Do not handle me like a feeble animal." She brushed off his hand once she was able to lean her weight on the trunk of the tree.

The man opted to lounge by a tree opposite hers, his back propped on the tree trunk. A wise decision, considering the termagant before him, he thought. After all, even he valued self-preservation. And, this girl seemed to want to preserve nothing of his.

"You are fortunate that I came along. Travelling on such an obscure road, you might have been stranded her for several more hours," he said, unable to withstand antagonizing her.

The span of the large elms shaded her expression, but he was assured that it was not an amiable one.

"Oh, really? You single-handedly exacerbated my circumstances, putting me in more of a dilemma than I began in. How fortunate for me," Ella murmured bitterly, placing one hand on the side of her cheek in feigned maidenly gratitude.

The stranger grinned, his honey colored eyes sparkling. In spite of this girl's apparent dislike of him, he was highly entertained by her quick tongue. "Do you want to know my name?" he inquired, although he could already guess the answer.

"I frankly could not give a _damn _what your name is. I am extremely fatigued and still have a journey to complete, although I am obviously lacking in footmen. And, because of your gracious assistance, I probably have a concussion as well." Ella probed her head for any bumps or contusions.

Feeling satisfied that she was not going to face a horrible death; Ella looked down at herself for the first time. She was absolutely filthy. The colors of her white blouse and blue skirt were barely distinguishable under the brown dirt and dust plastered on her clothes. She shook out her skirts furiously and brushed off her shirt, which helped as much as _not_ dusting herself off would have.

"I am Char, Prince of Kyrria," the man announced, expecting Ella to apologize profusely and attempt to gain his good graces back. After all, that is what any normal girl would do in her situation. Women fawned at his feet, a daily occurrence that Char justly attributed to his wealth and striking good looks. There had not been a woman he had ever wanted that he did not get. And why should he not? He was going to be king to a vast kingdom; that was the stuff of girlish dreams and fantasies.

Although, this girl was not at a disadvantage, he confirmed as he studied her intently. Her shrewdness amused him, as he had never seen such a feisty woman, considering most girls were taught to be coy, delicate blossoms. And, the dust did nothing to deter the impression she created. On the contrary, the dirtiness of her clothes only enhanced the brightness of her hazel eyes with chaotic tendrils of rich brown hair that fell in ringlets towards her abdomen. Ella presented a pleasantly curvy figure slouched against the tree, with a hint of long legs beneath her grimy skirts. Yes, he thought. He could forgive her quite well. However, Char could see that this would not unfold as he had planned because at the moment her bright eyes were aflame with anger and disdain.

"Of course, you are. Apparently everything that would be completely impossible is happening to me," Ella spoke lowly. She raised a cool hand to her forehead, checking to see if she was having a particularly real nightmare. "I am sorrier than you know to have met you today, Prince Charmont. It probably would have saved us both some grief, especially if you expect me to go weak in the knees." She emphasized her point by turning her head aside in obvious nonchalance as she unconsciously dusted more of herself off.

"You know, I could have you taken away by guards instantly, if I so chose," Char stated reflectively. "It is probably wise not to say anything to me that I would find distasteful," he warned casually with a shrug of his shoulders, leaning forward off the tree.

"If you wanted to have me arrested, I trust that you would have done it by now. And, you certainly would not have gone to the trouble of saving me if you only intended to have me taken away. Some of your men could have gotten me out," Ella replied.

Char grinned happily; much to Ella's bemusement. "So you agree that I did rescue you? I knew you would come around sooner or later."

Ella sighed in frustration. "You would like to think so, wouldn't you? Anyway, that is beside the point. I need to think of a plan, so your charm is wasted on me."

"Oh?" Char inquired.

"_Oh_, yes. But, fortunately, you will never have to see me again. You see… I am not from Bast, so there is an infinitesimal chance that this," she gesticulated to themselves at a standstill between the trees, "will ever occur a second time."

This piqued Char's interest. No wonder he had never seen this girl before. He was sure he would have remembered an intelligent woman with fiery green-brown eyes.

"What brings you to Bast, Miss…?" Char questioned.

"Ella," she conceded. "Ella of Frell." She owed him that, she supposed.

"So, Ella," he tested the name on his lips, finding that he liked it exceedingly. Somehow, she was personified by it. "Where were you heading this morning?"

I am… visiting an aunt," Ella answered hesitantly. She feared giving His Highness her address, although temporary, could prove to be troublesome for her.

"Who?" Char urged.

"My aunt."

"I believe you already said that," he pointed out with veiled patience. "Which aunt?"

"Why, Sire. The only aunt I have," Ella replied forlornly, twisting her face in what she hoped was sorrow.

"You are purposely refusing to tell me whom you are staying with," Char stated in amazement. No one had ever possessed the boldness to deny him.

Ella sighed exasperatedly. "Your Highness, why does it concern you so? It would be better for us to forget one another, as well as this entire day."

"Why?" Char asked, genuinely shocked by her lack of enthusiasm in seeing him again. Was this girl raised by wolves that she had not a whit of interest in him? Or, her eyes must be terribly weak that she could not properly see what a fine specimen he made.

"Because…," Ella stretched out slowly between clenched teeth, as if speaking to a young child, "you do not want to remember me, just as much as I do not wish to think of you."

_Ouch. _Well, clearly, that demonstrated her opinion of him.

Char had to swiftly change his mental tactics if he wanted her to give him the household where she would be staying. Although he had plentiful amounts of women to adore and entertain him, lately, there had been a certain dullness in his life. Perhaps, it was because they gave in too easily, which he found to be a crashing bore. What was the thrill of the chase when the prey willingly gravitated towards you?

All he needed to do was distract Ella long enough to obtain the desired information. But, which card should he play? Charming? He'd given that one a go, but as one could see, it seemed to have had the diametric effect. What about arrogant ass and suave lothario?

Char gave Ella a swarthy smile, making her eyes flicker at him cautiously.

Yes, _definitely_ suave ass.

"Oh, and do you know everything that I want?" Char suggested artfully, taking a few steps closer to Ella. He reveled in her alarmed expression. _Good_, he thought. She was not as self-confident as she had so fiercely portrayed.

"Well— that is…," Ella flushed a crimson shade, heat rising to her face, "I don't." Of course, she did not know what he wanted. _Idiot, _she chastised herself_._ She had just met the man but a couple of hours ago. But, _why_ was the prince suddenly having such a predatory gait? Ella flattened herself into the tree as Char continued to approach her, his boots crunching gravel on the hushed roadside. "I had only assumed you would have better exploits to occupy your time…," her voice faded.

Smirking inwardly, Char stood directly in front of Ella, her head level with his chin, and he looked squarely down into her upturned visage. "Give me you're the name of your estate, and I shall find a more effective way to use my time," he countered. Noses almost touching, Char could see the wariness in her eyes. He had her right where he wanted; flustered to the point of spilling all the details.

This was becoming an increasingly awkward situation, exceptionally quick, Ella panicked. Here, at a stalemate with the prince of Kyrria, she wracked her mind for words. However, with his face so close to her own, she was finding thinking to be a bit difficult. She had not ever really been in this proximity to the male gender before, as it was entirely out of the realm of decency and propriety.

Devoid of brilliant ideas, Ella was about to give Prince Charmont what he sought. Then, she caught the small smirk in the corner of his mouth, hovering above her.

_The bastard._

He had been trying to manipulate her this whole time! Who did he think she was? Some empty-headed courtier, easily duped and managed? Well, he was in for a rude awakening…

She was not to be intimidated.

A veneer of iron overtook Ella countenance, causing her momentary fear to vanish. She raised her arms, laying them on Char's chest and giving him a forceful shove away from her.

Surprised by the momentum of the push, Char stumbled back a few feet. Ella grinned knowingly, crossing her arms in a sweeping movement. "You can rot before I give you anything," Ella chimed cheerfully. "I have no need of you any longer, nor shall you find me again."

"Is that so?" Char retorted, "Well, I relish a challenge."

Both Char and Ella locked gazes, holding a silent battle of wills. Ella's eyes flared with defiance, while Char studied her intently, taking another step in her direction.

Suddenly, hearing a distant calling of her name, Ella broke her contact, crossing the trees and furiously whipping her head around them to see past to the road. Having almost crashed into the prince in her haste, Ella had to shoulder him out of her way.

There, about a mile east, were her coachmen, their blue and white livery contrasting with the brown dirt of the road. _Salvation. _Never had short, incompetent men been so welcome to her. Ella drew her face back into the clearing, preparing an escape mission.

"I suppose this is farewell, Your Highness," Ella began to conclude, quickly skirting around the trees while still facing Char. Although he was a pompous ass, Ella believed in the necessities when it dealt with royalty. Or, things could very well end badly.

"Um… thank you," she added as an afterthought, nodding her head in acknowledgement.

Having done her duty in graciousness, Ella shifted her body and fairly began to fly down the road, taking rapid strides with her legs and not daring to look back at the cluster of trees that held the prince among them. In plain view of her coachmen, Ella waved them down, picking up her pace to meet them.

Finally, she would be able to see her aunt and forget this ordeal even happened.

Partially concealed by the trees, Char trailed Ella with his dark brown eyes. Intriguing, indeed. She had all but run away from him, barely saving a cursory glance backward. He watched as she became a little brown, dust-covered dot in the distance, halting to address her footmen.

Ella of Frell was an enigma... One that he intended to figure out.

o~o~o~o~o

A.N. Thanks for giving my little attempt a read. Hope you enjoyed it. If not, there are other jaguars in the jungle.

Cheers,

Thriasia


	2. A Distant Memory

**Never Too Far Away**

**By Thriasia**

**Disclaimer:** None of these characters have been created by my non-clever mind and all credit belongs to Ms. Levine.

o~o~o~o~o

**A Distant Memory**

Rambling along in the newly conjured carriage, Ella reflected on the events of the day: one catastrophic disaster, one moronic bird, and one… less-than-welcome Prince Thorn-In-Her-Side. Overall, she would have to say, this day was not a favorable one. She was only thankful that it was all over, and that she might find a way to relieve her tension once she finally arrived at Aunt Rainford's. Undoubtedly, Mandy was already there and could have unpacked a hundred times over, considering the amount of time Ella had been missing. If her coachmen had any wit at all- although she was not so sure anymore, Ella thought as she glanced derisively upwards at them, they would have informed Mandy that she was in peril. Otherwise, she knew Mandy would be fretting terribly.

As the trees and expansive fields rolled by, Ella leaned back against the plush upholstery and inhaled deeply, taking in the comforting scenery she knew well. Aunt Rainford, by far her favorite aunt, was opinionated and eccentric, and Ella adored her. Perhaps it was because Ella herself was so much like her aunt, or rather; Aunt Rainford was so much like Ella's mother. Ella heaved a wistful sigh, thinking of her mother. Although her mother had been gone for at least ten years, she still missed her with a fierce longing that could never be assuaged by her indifferent and absentee father. Aunt Rainford had a liveliness that Ella sorely yearned for in her family; a stay in Bast was a wonderful reprieve from the suffocating presence of her father in dark, solitary rooms. Idly following a skittering squirrel across the grass with her green-brown eyes, Ella gaze became distant as she remembered what her father had said before she departed Frell.

_Ella lounged on a stool in the servant's kitchen, where she was wont to take her meals, as the servants were also her dearest friends. She watched Mandy pull out a freshly baked loaf of bread from the oven, and the pungent aroma wafted around the room. Idly swinging her legs back and forth, she pondered the incoming dusk and watched the leaves swirling around as the winds picked up outside the clear, glass windows. The last days of chilly winter were ending, bringing about the sunshine and frolicking Ella loved most about the spring season. How she wished every day could be this warm and peaceful. She smiled, remembering the fun she and Arieda had had in the market that afternoon, trying on all types of silly hats and perfumes and purchasing different kinds of nuts for Mandy's bread. But, thinking of the bread again, Ella felt her stomach rumble with the pangs of hunger._

"_Mandy, when will dinner be ready? I'm starved and I'm waiting in anticipation for Greta and Luis to tell us about their new granddaughter!" Ella pleaded. Their oldest servants, Greta and Luis had been absent for almost a week, doting on the newest addition to their family. They were, Ella was sure, absolutely ecstatic and Ella was anxious to share their excitement._

_Mandy kept her head down, focusing on chopping carrots, her fingers swift with the practiced hands of skilled years. But her eyes darted around uncomfortably, trying to look anywhere except at Ella. Mandy had practically raised Ella since she was an infant; reading her bedtime stories when she was frightened, braiding her unruly hair into pigtails so she could play with the boys, giving her tonics for her colds, and guiding her through all the times she thought it was the end of the world when she couldn't pass her sewing class. They had a special bond that not many could claim, which had only strengthened upon the passing of her mother; Ella knew Mandy like she did her own heart. And, if she knew anything, it was that Mandy was atrocious at keeping secrets where it concerned her. _

_Ella eyed her suspiciously, "What is it, Mandy? Has something happened?"_

"_Lady…" Mandy began soflty, "I'm preparing a more elaborate dinner for tonight because you will not be eating in the kitchen with the servants." She then looked up at Ella's grim face. "You've been ordered to eat in the formal dining hall… you're father is come home today," she finished with a frown._

_Although normally, young girls would be elated at the return of their father after he had been away for nearly three months; however, Ella only sighed resignedly. Even before her mother had passed away, Ella's father had ruled as a despot and a tyrant, despite the fact that her mother's inheritance provided them with their affluent livings. She often questioned whether her mother had ever married him for love, and if not, then why she went through with it at all? Sir Peter was cold and bland, his clothes stiff with starch, hair slicked over to hide his balding head, and the corners of his mouth and eyes wrinkled with lines from his sneers and contempt of all others. Ella would have given all her years of finishing school, gowns, parties, and countless governesses for the affection and joy any pauper father would bestow on his children. Being an only child, the sole interaction she had with Sir Peter would be when he would hold her in his arms at balls to present a happy façade to the company he entertained. Immediately afterwards, he would hand her off to the nearest servant with a wipe of his hands on the tablecloth. Ella grew to recoil at his touch, predicting that he would again use her to gain something he wanted while he outwardly feigned tenderness, which she knew to be anything but genuine._

_In the years of her adolescence, their correspondence was limited to his demands sent through letters for her to finish school faster so he could stop paying for it. He would also pass on frequent missives about whom to "meet and butter up" for him, things Mandy needed to do, or what newest luxury item he wished to be bought for the house. Ella undoubtedly always ignored him, instead setting herself, Mandy, and the servants to do as they pleased. The months that Sir Peter was gone on business, trying to rebuild their fortune he gambled away, were delightful to the entire household. The halls were brighter, as they could open the forbidden draperies, and the rooms lingered with smiles and laughter. Unfortunately, there were those few days, like this one, when he insisted on coming back to oversee the estate. Generally, him and Ella would avoid one another's paths until they could freely return again to not speaking from a distance. But, on rare occasions, Ella was forced to share a meal with her father, with her finding each time more unpleasant than the last. He always had some new plot that required her participation, which she'd rather gnaw off her arms than take part in. Thus was their tumultuous relationship, and Ella could feel bitter unhappiness welling up in the pit of her stomach. So much for a relaxing evening. _

_The grandfather clock chimed seven, and Ella reclined at the pristinely ironed place settings, looking around displeasingly at the drafty dining hall. The severely carved wooden panels looked morbid and endless in the dim lighting. The burgundy wall-length curtains were closed tightly once again, blocking out any semblance of a lived-in and warm feeling. It also prevented any hope for escape… just the way her father liked it. While she much preferred her normal day gowns to eat in, she knew Sir Peter would just make her go to her room to change if she dared show up in one. Apparently, dressing comfortably was only for low-class people. So, she had donned an appropriate dress of soft forest-green velvet that would hopefully pass muster. However, as a secret act of rebellion, she specifically chose a dress that had a ripped hem just as a barb to her father, who expected her to be so damned perfect whenever they met. Of course, he could not see the bottom of her gown. No one could see the bottom of her gown. But she could feel it like some secret triumph over him. Yes, she was that pathetic._

"_Ella… it is always exceedingly helpful to see you in good health," Sir Peter made loud echoes as his feet presented themselves on the threshold of the entryway and began to cross the length of the room, startling Ella out of her clouded reverie. _

_He _would _be glad she was healthy just so he did not have to pay doctor's fees, she thought. Greedy bastard. Surprisingly, Sir Peter looked even gaunter and pastier than he did when she last saw him, not that she thought that to be possible. Per usual, his coat and pants were adorned with gaudy colors of purple, green, and yellow because he somehow thought they reflected his status. Her father was always one to abandon taste in favor of ostentation. And his slimy excuse for a smile was in place as well. Goody._

"_Father," Ella nodded in acknowledgement. "It's been quite a while." Which was quite a relief._

_Sir Peter finally reached the table, opting to sit across from his daughter at the end of the long table instead of by her side. Lifting up his coattails, a servant helped him into his seat. "You are looking very homely and thin," he began while placing his napkin in his lap. "How do you expect to attract suitors when your form leaves much to be desired?"_

_And so begins the good cheer and conversation. Ella clenched her teeth in a tight smile, "Well, Father, it must have been all those months away at school. They did not give us the luxury of hearty meals." More like they starved the finishing girls to get them in meticulous hour-glass shape. _

_Greta and Luis brought out the soup course, quietly setting the bowls in front of them. Like it normally did, the conversation -–if it could be called that—was taken over by silence. Sir Peter picked up his spoon and started to eat his soup, making unattractive slurping noises._

_It had only been five minutes and he had already called her ugly and unwanted by men, Ella mused painfully. God help her. She regretted not asking Mandy to make dinner only two courses._

_Maybe if she just stared at him intensely, he would feel uncomfortable enough to finish eating faster. _

_So she stared. _

_Sir Peter brought another spoonful to his mouth._

_Maybe if she tried not to blink, using a direct gaze. Yes, of course! That would add more impact. Ella picked a spot on his nose._

_Sir Peter wiped his mouth on his napkin._

_Her eyes began to water. _

_She blinked. Damnit._

_She then squinted, having read in a novel once that narrow looks were menacing. _

_Sir Peter picked up the salt, adding a portentous amount into his bowl. What a fool. Mandy's food was always perfectly seasoned._

_Ella's vision was getting very blurry now. It made her father look like a comical blob. A big, purple blob. Her eye muscles twitched. _

_She shifted and widened her eyes instead. She never cared to notice before but Sir Peter's few strands of hair were very distracting. Every time he bent down they would bounce up and down on his shiny forehead. His head came up again with his spoon. His hairs lifted as well. What obedient little buggers. At least something listened to him._

_Ella let out an inaudible huff of air. What was she doing? This was completely ineffective. Inwardly capitulating, Ella closed her eyes and then began to open one at a time, back and forth._

_Sir Peter was eating soup to the left of the candlestick._

_Now Sir Peter was eating soup to the _right_ of the candlestick._

_She glanced upwards and met Luis' exasperated what-in-the-world-is-wrong-with-your-face question, as he stood erect in the corner of the room for Sir Peter's summons._

_Ella waggled her eyebrows and rolled her eyes, trying to respond, 'Obviously, I am a mad woman.'_

_She didn't think he got it._

_She really was not great at the whole art of intimidation. At least she had gotten fifteen minutes worth of face exercises._

_Interminable minutes later, Sir Peter pushed his empty bowl away as the servants arrived with the next course. He then looked up at Ella, assessing her face. He had hoped for a more attractive daughter that would suit the tastes of older, more distinguished men. But, luckily he had shown a portrait of her to some of his acquaintances and they seemed eager to meet her. He was growing weary of having her as a dependent in his household. She would be much more useful as the wife of a peer, and more importantly, he would be able to make a favorable alliance for his business dealings. Now all he had to do was persuade Ella to see things his way, which he knew to be much easier said than done. Ever since her mother died, she had become so unruly and wild. She was always in the outdoors and laughing loudly at every little occurrence, with a sun-tanned complexion and rosy cheeks. It just was not healthy. She did not even use a parasol. Ladies were supposed to be delicate and demure. Yes, the sooner he could get her married off, the better._

"_Ella," he began strategically, "I was hoping you might be presentable in the next few weeks to, ah…, entertain some friends of mine, if you know what I mean."_

_Sir Peter saw her narrow her eyes as she replied, "No, Father, I do not know what you mean."_

_He continued more firmly, "You need to stop spending your days running about this manor and start thinking about your future. Who is going to take care of you when I am gone?" he finished with an attempted fatherly tone. _

_Ella rolled her eyes; she knew that it would be a long, long while before Sir Peter was 'gone.' "I'm terribly sorry, sir, but I have some prior commitments. Playing hostess just cannot be squeezed into my busy schedule. You see, I have to run about the manor, do some walking about the manor, and… oh yes, sprint around the manor," she concluded impertinently. _

_Suddenly Sir Peter's hands came crashing down upon the dining table, forcing the plates and silverware to rattle into echoes that spiraled towards the ceiling. Ella flinched, realizing that he was much more serious than she had thought. "I do not presume to ask your permission, Ella. I am in no mood for games and you will do as I say." Slowly, he removed his hands, trying to regain his composure._

_What could she possibly do? She thought quickly. There was no chance of getting out of this predicament if she remained in Frell. She needed to go away for a while, at least until her father averted his attention to a new scheme. Thinking of a safe haven that Sir Peter would be too intimidated to question, her Aunt Rainford immediately came to mind. She had enough weight in the aristocracy that Sir Peter could not protest. She steeled herself, looking up into his face, "I apologize, Father, but Aunt Rainford has been arranging for me to visit. I would be obliged to do your bidding, however she is rather persistent, you know. She asked that I stay for at least a few months."_

_Sir Peter released a defeated breath. He suspected that Ella had recently concocted this plan, however, he knew he could not go head-to-head with Rainford. She had too much influence and it could end badly for him. He waved his hand dismissively, "Fine then, I do not care what you do as long as you are out of my way."_

_Normally her father's callous remarks usually slid off her, but his lack of caring this time seemed to reopen the pain in her heart. Sometimes she felt as though she had no parents. "Your love for me is always so touching," she said, purposely antagonizing._

_Her father seemed bored with her pointed comment. "How can I love someone who is such a nuisance to everyone around her?" He snapped for Luis to pull his chair out as he stood, threw his napkin down, and walked out towards the hallway that lead to his study._

_Meanwhile, hot tears pricked Ella's eyes. She vowed never to cry in front her father, and holding true to her words, she tightly fisted her hands into the velvet of her dress, watching him walk out on her, like so many times before. Sir Peter closed the door behind him. She felt a damp drop hit the surface of her knuckles, and she unclenched them as an endless flow followed its lead._

Refocusing on the passing trees, Ella looked down to again find tear-stained palms lying open upon her lap. Even though she hated to admit it, smearing the wetness away on her muslin gown, her father did get under her skin. Any daughter who said they didn't crave a parent's love was either a liar, or much stronger than she was.

Choosing not to dwell on those thoughts that depressed her, Ella felt her spirits lift as she heard the carriage halt. Finally! 'I suppose tragic thoughts rather help to past the time,' she reflected wryly. Succinctly wiping away at her face, she prepared herself to get out of the carriage. The footman opened the door and she grasped his hand as she stepped out. A small breeze picked up the strands of her hair, and she closed her eyes, breathing in the nostalgic scent of memorable childhood visits. Rainford Manor stood elegantly upon pillars of stone, arching upwards into regal towers, with oval windows glinting along the exterior. The expanse of the estate stretched endlessly, perfectly situated upon acres of manicured gardens and trees that were in height of bloom.

Ella eagerly tread down the cobbled entrance up to the front doors that were pulled open by Smith, the butler she had known all her life. A kind smile graced his weathered features, his face marked by aging but otherwise exactly as she remembered, "Welcome Miss Ella, what a pleasure to see you again. Last time I saw you, you barely reached here," he indicated with a finger at his waist. "Lady Rainford will be down shortly after—"

"Ella darling!" Smith was interrupted by an ornately dressed woman moving swiftly down the grand staircase. The voluminous ruffles of her burgundy gown billowed behind her to compensate for her quick pace. "It has been utterly too long since you have stayed with me!" She reached the marble foyer and brought Ella into a crushing embrace, which practically took the air out of Ella's lungs, seeing as Lady Rainford was not a small woman. Pulling her at arms' length, Lady Rainford examined Ella for the first time in several years, "My goodness! You are looking so beautiful and graceful; you remind me of your mother more and more. Smithy, do be a dear and see that Ella's things get put in the Ocean guest room. And, Ella, my love, you must be exhausted! If you follow Smithy, he will show you to your room. Freshen up as long as you need, but meet me down in the parlor so I can ring the bell for tea when you are finished. Mandy is already in the kitchen, putting the cook into a flurry, no doubt," with that said, Lady Rainford busily disappeared down the hallway as suddenly as she had entered, calling names of various servants to coordinate cakes and tea.

Exhaling briefly, Ella took off her gloves and enjoyed a moment to re-memorize the luxuriously furnished rooms and moldings. Her eyes flickered up the length of the staircase, meeting the portraits of her ancestors, finally ending with her Uncle Rainford at the top with a poised stance, his twinkling eyes as real as in person. She had forgotten many details of this house, just as she had forgotten how garrulous her aunt was. Honestly, she figured he aunt must be so practiced that she hardly needed to take breaths between her long strings of words. Yet, her aunt's personality brought her a sense of tranquility; listening to her made Ella feel as if she was also hearing her mother. A small grin appeared on her lips, remembering the times she and her mother had slid down the Rainford banisters, much to the scolding of the maids.

"Miss, might I take you upstairs now?" Ella turned towards Smith as he lifted an arm for her to follow him, embarrassed that she had been standing there like a fool that had never seen a house before. Smith led Ella up the steps and towards the East Wing, chatting with her a bit along the way. In a manor that held over ten rooms, Ella was relieved to find that her aunt and Mandy were also situated in the end of the East Wing. Not that she was scared easily, but come on… entirely empty wings were a little creepy, even for her standards.

As she walked into her room, Ella stared appreciatively at the ocean motif, with seashell wallpaper and a large, canopy bed draped with blue and cream covers. Neat bookcases lined one side of the walls, while a petite, ivory-colored vanity set sat in the corner. The end table by her bed held a vase of freshly cut peonies. Although Ella didn't live like a pauper in her own room in Frell, for some reason, guest rooms were also so exciting. Maybe because it had been ages since her father allowed her to go on a trip anywhere.

"I will see that the rest of your luggage is brought up during teatime," Smith bowed politely. "If you need anything, please do not hesitate to ring for my assistance." He excused himself out of the room, leaving her small cases by the door.

Hearing the click of the doorknob and Smith's fading footsteps, Ella's face became giddy as she strode to the window. The green grass and shrubbery swayed under the breeze, and white clouds and singing birds shared the blue sky. Even though birds were not her favorite animals at present, Ella could definitely be grateful for the improvement of her circumstances. She beamed and began to spin around the room in delight, imagining the adventures and fun she would have in the months to come. Stopping dizzily, she took off at a run towards the bed, jumping onto the feathered sheets face-first. Rolling onto her back, Ella sighed contentedly. Life was looking up.

o~o~o~o~o

Newly changed into a light pink morning gown, spotted with yellow flowers, Ella peeked into the sitting room to see if her aunt was already there. A delicate tea set had been laid out upon the table, along with a mountain of cakes and scones. A faint rumbling came from the pit of her stomach. "All right, all right," Ella patted her abdomen. "I'm getting you a bite to eat." She tiptoed into the room, hoping to snag a quick treat before her aunt arrived. After all, she had been on the road (whether it be in a carriage or _lying _on the actual road) for the better part of a day. Carefully, she extracted a scone from the cart, rearranging the others to cover the hole, and brought it to her mouth. Although she knew it was rude to eat before the hostess, she thought her death due to starvation would not be a help to anyone. Hearing her aunt's booming voice trail towards the room, Ella rapidly stuffed the remaining two-thirds of the scone into her mouth, brushing away stray crumbs.

"Dear, you have no idea how thrilled I am to have you here," Lady Rainford smoothly walked into the parlor and situated herself on a plush, green armchair. "I heard all about your frightful mess getting here, so you must know why I always insist on bringing more than one footman. Although," she pondered, "I suppose even three footmen really did not do much for you." She lightly shook her head in exasperation. "How are you after that ordeal?"

Taking the past few minutes of her aunt's speech to chew the baked good, Ella finally swallowed the last of it, nodding her head. "Oh, I am quite fine. I can hardly remember what happened anymore."

"But, however were you able to get yourself out from under the carriage?"

Ella pursed her lips. "Oh you know… a little bit of determination goes a long way." She figured it might be wise to omit the part about a disturbingly annoying (and attractive, she begrudgingly admitted) prince. That could definitely become complicated.

Lady Rainford gave her niece a tender expression. How proud she was of Ella's growth, especially under the guidance of someone as vile as Sir Peter. Even though she never understood why her sister insisted on marrying the man, she always chose to support Eleanor. However, once her beloved sister had passed, she knew that her little girl would have much need of love and a mentor. It was only until recently that Sir Peter had let Ella return from finishing school. Being a viscountess, Lady Rainford always regretted that she and the late Viscount Rainford were unable to have children, despite their more than ample resources to provide for them. So, she had been elated to receive a letter from her niece asking to visit. She hoped they would be able to strengthen their relationship during this time, for Ella's sake, as well as the duty she owed Eleanor to watch over her daughter. But, Lady Rainford thought amusedly, Ella seemed to be quite bright and capable from what she had already witnessed. "Well," she began, "you do look healthy enough, especially since you were already able to nibble some cakes." Lady Rainford laughed at Ella's shocked face. "Come now, I'm not as old as you may think! Oh go ahead, dear, you must be famished." She proceeded to compile a plate for Ella, handing it to her while she reached for the teapot.

"What about you, Aunt?" Ella questioned between bites. "How have you been? You look as lovely as the last time I saw you."

Lady Rainford chuckled, looking down at her generous curves, "That's very sweet, Ella. I've been called many things, but 'lovely' hasn't been one of them in a long while. However, there has been eccentric, overbearing, and one of my favorites," she paused for a sip of tea, "that crazy, rich old lady." Lady Rainford concluded with a hearty laugh that caused Ella to giggle. "But, dear, at my age, one should be allowed to do as they please. And I assure you, I do. Life is too short to care about what others say," and she leaned close as if to tell a secret, "especially when they probably want to break free themselves."

Any nervousness that Ella might have had shed at that moment. She felt that breaking free was all she wanted to do her entire life, and she recognized her aunt instantly as a kindred spirit.

"Anyway, tell me everything! I want to know all about these years I've missed. Who has been in your life, where you've traveled, scorned lovers," Lady Rainford sighed dramatically.

"Although I can't guarantee I'm old enough for any lovers, there is quite a bit to tell," Ella grinned. She proceeded to tell her aunt all about her horrid life at the finishing academy, Mandy and the servants, her friend Arieda, the places and seasons she loved most about Frell. She and Lady Rainford chatted for hours, laughing at jokes and retelling stories of their memories, unaware of the time that passed. Finally, in the lull of conversation, Ella stretched her back on the couch and Lady Rainford gave a slight yawn.

"I suppose I should stop chattering away and let you get unpacked! Besides, I think I might lie down. Shall we adjourn until dinner?" Lady Rainford suggested as she rose from the armchair.

Ella nodded as they two walked into the hallway. Her aunt waved merrily as she took to the stairs. About to do the same, Ella stopped as she remembered that she hadn't seen Mandy yet. Using her memory, Ella turned in the direction of what she thought was the kitchen. She walked further until she could smell the poignant scent of onions. Following it, she entered a large room, complete with ovens, stoves, wood counters, and Mandy chopping onions at the island in the center. In front of Mandy lay a chicken, tied and ready to be stuffed for dinner.

Mandy looked up to see Ella in the doorway. "Oh, Lady!" She came over to kiss the top of Ella's head. "I did not know you were finished with tea. I was so worried about you today. Thank goodness you are all right." She returned to the counter and began to slice up some vegetables. "I think tomorrow would be a good day for some spiced pumpkin soup, don't you think?" she asked aloud. "But Lady Rainford's cook doesn't have all the ingredients. Could you pick up some spices for me at the market tomorrow morning?"

Ella agreed with a smile, thinking it would be an enjoyable outing to look around Bast since her acquaintance with the town was very limited.

o~o~o~o~o

Wrapping snugly in a navy blue cape and adorned in brown boots, Ella left towards town in the brisk morning light. After yesterday's dinner, she had immediately fallen into a sound sleep, which she felt she rightly deserved. However, the promise of an excursion the next day had her up early. Smith assured her that the walk was no more than twenty minutes down the road, and Ella grabbed her satchel and set out. An airy smile was etched onto her face as she observed the townspeople beginning to set up for the day. Stable boys led the horses out to graze and be brushed, while a saleswoman prepared her cart of souvenirs and trinkets. The blacksmith put coals onto the fire, and smell of baker's bread wafted in the air. Trailing further into the heart of town, Ella admired the different wares for sale.

"Can I interest you in some fine cloths, miss?" an elderly woman displayed vast rolls of different colored materials.

Ella shook her head and moved on. Children squealed with laughter as they ran around the market, their parents running to chastise them. Ella laughed in amusement as one tried to hide behind her skirts from an irate mother until she pried away. Continuing, she mentally tried to recall the list of herbs Mandy had wanted as she walked down the aisles.

"Miss, are you in need of a pet companion?" Ella grimaced as she viewed a man advertising large cages of colorful birds, each one squawking and flying around. I will certainly pass on that one, she thought. Lately birds seemed to lead her into trouble.

Looking to both directions, Ella crossed the street, dodging ruts in the dirt. She passed a stand of multi-hued plants and flowers, bringing a burst of color to the market. Stopping for a moment to take pleasure it their fragrance, she idly watched people drift by. Giving a cursory glace to her right, Ella diverted her attention back to lift a fern in its pot. But, familiar curls of auburn hair flashed in her mind as she did a furious double take.

There, browsing nonchalantly among merchants anxious to accommodate him was the Prince of Kyrria, in all his glory.

Ella glared back at the birds.

What was he _doing _here?

o~o~o~o~o

A/N: I am so, soooo sorry, everyone. I deserve to be beaten for abandoning my story for this long. Moving from high school to college got me all preoccupied, but that's not an excuse. I've actually had this chapter for a while, but hadn't edited it yet. Anyway, I promise to start updating more frequently! Thanks to all that have put my story on favorites and alerts; I will not let you down! Stick around and things are about to get more interesting ;)

Cheers,

Thriasia


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